


Killing Time

by Velence



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Episode: s07e08 Argentina, Episode: s07e09 Helter Skelter, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velence/pseuds/Velence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First Isaak wanted so hard to survive that he came to me. The one who killed his lover. He must have loved his life very much, but maybe he realized he loved Viktor more than his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Killing time

**Author's Note:**

> Now betaed. Thank you, [TrenchcoatsAreSexy](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/192380/).

A man of his word.

Isaak Sirko promised to call Jurg to tell him to release Hannah and I trusted him to do so. I let him lead while I cleaned the deck. Maybe 30 seconds later I heard a shot. I ran directly to Isaak who was lying on the ground, holding his bleeding stomach. ”That little shit George“, he explained. Isaak had survived two professional hitmen (with my help) and was finally shot by the strip club owner. Ironic.

”The bullet's still inside”, he said, ”We both know I'm a dead man.”

First Isaak wanted so hard to survive that he came to me. The one who killed his lover. He must have loved his life very much, but maybe he realized he loved Viktor more than his life. You could see the resignation, the tiredness in his eyes. 

”You never watched Reservoir Dogs. You're gonna be okaaaay“, I answered, not letting him get away with this stupid thing.

”I need one last favor...“, Isaak asked.

I shook my head and answered grinning: “No last kiss! You're not in Kiev anymore, Dorothy, we have trauma centers and doctors in Miami. I'll get you to a hospital.” I reached out my hand and he accepted it looking into my eyes. “I have some pain killers in my car. Even an anesthetic injection if you like...”

He smiled at me. Isaak was a very polite and nice person for a killer. He didn't creep you out like these other psychopaths. The ones who are more like me. He was more human than those other fuckers I met.

I had to confess, this guy got under my skin. Not because Isaak was a gangster and a professional killer and had probably put more people to bed with a pick-axe and shovel than Hannah had. I have never been afraid but Isaak could scare you, even from behind bars with his little story about his grandfather from Siberia. What really affected me was our conversation at the gay bar. The Fucking Terminator was practically crying in his beer after he made sure I couldn't kill him unnoticed. Surprisingly Isaak had opened up to me, told me he and Viktor were lovers, talked about love...

Isaak babbled about Viktor as we drove to the next hospital. I wanted to make a joke and starting singing as he brought up the line 'Everything I do... I do it for you', but I didn't. It didn't feel right. Instead I listened to him, let him prattle on to make sure he was still conscious.

He made me talk about Hannah. How I was afraid, not dying, but of living, of having no control when I was with Hannah. I asked him if it was worth it all, his feelings that cost him everything, maybe even his life and he said yes with such a passion that made me think twice.

As we stopped in front of the hospital Isaak handed me his cell and told me what I had to say to Jurg to release Hannah. He was dozing away, his hand fall almost down. I ran to his side of the car and opened the door for him. Isaak had lost a lot of blood. It was staining the seat of my SUV.

We entered the emergency room with my arm around his waist and his arm above my shoulder. Two paramedics took him and put him on a stretch. I stood there, watching them doing their jobs, my glance not leaving Isaak's half closed eyes. He looked as tired, wrinkled and desperate as he appeared this morning in my apartment 

A doctor shooed me away. I left the cell and winked goodbye at him. I thought I saw a nod from him. 

~~~

It was late at night when Isaak opened his eyes in a hospital bed. It seemd to take him some time to really wake up. He appeared to notice me still tired and fuzzy from the drugs they gave him. Isaak checked his bandage before he looked at me again.

“You look worn out”, I said.

“Life does that”, Isaak rasped. He must have been thirsty after the surgery.

“I guess it depends on the type of life.” I smiled mildly and asked: “Do you still want me to take you to the morgue? Opera playing in the background?”

“What the average temperature in Micronesia?” Now he coughed. Isaak reached for the water at his nightstand. He clenched his teeth in pain. I got up from my stool, filled a glass and gave it to him. He had a big sip.

“I don't know but I guess it's hot.” I sat down again. “You're very friendly to a guy who killed your boyfriend.” I was still surprised Isaak changed so fast from hating and wanting to kill me to asking me for help and even becoming almost a friend. Almost – he had kidnapped Hannah. The chat in the gay bar seemed to have changed a lot of things.

“Boyfriend. This seems so foreign.” Isaak gave me a non-answer.

“No more revenge?”

“I stick to my word. But George, that little fucker, is on my list now. I have to get out of here before the brotherhood knows I'm still alive. I have to call Jurg.” Full of enthusiasm Isaak threw his blanket to the side and showed his naked legs and feet. He was in a good shape for a man of age. After knowing what he had done in the Colombians' club, I was convinced he was quite fit. Though it was a strange sight, not seeing him in elegant clothing, no suit, no mocassins. I had never thought of him as gay – he was European! - but now...

Isaak swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, grabbing the mattress. He must still have been dizzy from the surgery. 

I looked away, stared out of the window. There were still lights on in some buildings. Miami never sleeps. “Hannah's dead. Jurg too. They killed each other”, I finally said.

I could feel his eyes on me. “Never underestimate a woman in love.” Isaak dropped the topic. He got up and searched for his clothes. His shirt was ruined, cut. I could see his back, his underwear and his naked, slender legs as he stood there putting on his suit over his hospital dress. Before I came close with Rita I thought of myself as... not interested. I didn't have any emotions. The relationship with her was only a cover for my true nature. After growing more confident with myself as a sexual being I think I could still swing both ways so to speak. I never really gave it much of a thought.

Isaak turned to me. 

“Interesting new look of yours.” I mentioned.

“Maybe this will be next trend in Micronesia? How does Micronesia sound to you?” Isaak was in a good mood for a guy who had just heard that his right hand Jurg was dead. But I had paid too. With Hannah. 

Did he just invite me to come with him? Was he flirting with me? This brought me back to our conversation at the gay bar. We’re outsiders, you and I. Yes, yes, we could have been friends. No hiding, no faking. But Argentina? Or Micronesia?

Everyone wants an Argentina, a place where the slate is wiped clean. But the truth is Argentina is just Argentina. Everyone has this illusion from time to time. 

Isaak touched his torso where the bullet wound was. He straightened his body, making him look sophisticated, even with his hospital dress.

“You know what I like about Miami? The stark look. There's this Seventies deco vibe.” He talked like we were sitting in a nice little cafe at the beach. He looked at me ready to go so I rose from the chair. Isaak looked at me intimate. “I was pleased to see a familiar face waking up.” He hesitated and put a hand on my shoulder. 

It must have been horrible to hear me saying at the beach bar how I crushed Viktor's skull with a fire extinguisher. I came to the gay bar intending to kill him and found something else... found myself sharing an indescribable state of closeness with the one I was hunting. There was a sense of respect we had for each other: knowing that we both must do what we have to do, even though someone's plans would fail in the end. 

“The life I knew it is over. I'm more of a liability than a benefit to the Koshka brotherhood. They've questioned whether a man hell-bent on killing a cop should be in charge. Well, who can blame them? I always thought that loving another man would break my neck and make them turn me down. But I was wrong.” Isaak paused. “Along time ago I made some arrangements – funds – for that case. If you could drive me to me car...? It's still at harbor.”

“Yes, no problem.” 

We walked through the corridors without meeting someone. The drive to the harbor was quiet. Isaak looked outside the window thinking. 

“Your heart is broken”, I stated dry like a medical diagnosis as I parked next to his car. As if I knew how it was supposed to feel.

He turned to look at me. “And yours isn't, is it?“

I groaned. 

Isaak was consumed by guilt, drowning in grief. He'll never recover, I thought. I felt the same thing with Rita. It was my fault Trinity killed her. Harrison reminded me of her every day. And now Hannah. It was my fault that Hannah had gotten killed.

“I couldn't tell her...” I didn't know what I wanted to tell her. 

“Tell her what?”, Isaak demanded to know, pressing me to answer.

“I'm not sure what it was, where we were heading. I'll miss her. I felt... safe with her.”

Ultimately satisfied with my stumbled answer he spoke. “A broken heart is the worst injury. Bullet wounds are way more easier. You'll survive it but the heart is never quite the same.” His voice sounded weary. “It was nice to meet you.” Isaak stretched out his hand and I shook it.

Isaak exited my car. He stood there looking down. I couldn't see what he saw. He moved very fast into his car, leaned forward over the seats and reached for the glovebox where he pulled out a gun. The first shot caught me by surprise, I needed a few seconds to locate the shooter. Isaak immediately fired back through the open window of the passenger seat. A man hid behind a bollard next to the ship on which Isaak had been shot this afternoon. They had sent someone to be sure he was finished.

Isaak grabbed the vacation photo of Viktor and him that was hid behind the sun protection of his car and came back to me. “Flat tire”, he barked. “Go!”

I set back and drove off with squealing tires.

~~~

It was still dark when I welcomed the Ukrainian now ex-mobster in my apartment. “We're still archenemies. They won't come here.” I waved around. “I guess you're familiar with my place. Make yourself at home.” I referred to his unexpected appearances yesterday and two days ago. Just yesterday I was at his throat, after that he had a gun pointing at my head and now we were on friendly terms. Crazy.

“Finally welcome.” Isaak made a half laugh and stepped inside. 

I examined him in the electric light of my living room. Vobk, Ukrainian for “The Wolf”, was standing in my little cave. His appearance certainly reminded me actually of a wolf, grey suit, darker grey hair and bright green eyes. His expression fixated, intense and murderous. But not now. 

We didn't speak much. I gave him my bed. 

My mind wandered back to Hannah. I wouldn't see her again. The thought still hadn't really reached me. It felt like I could drive by her house and meet her as she worked in the greenhouse. I still could see her smile.

I stopped by the bedroom on my way to the bathroom. The door was left ajar. I could hear a voice. Not Isaak. I needed a moment to notice it. It was a mailbox message on repeat. “Isaak, I'm at the airport to Miami. I'll be home soon.” No promised hugs and kisses. Nothing personal. Just the little hint with “home”. 

We both have lost people we loved. 

I've learned a lot about love from a man that tried to murder me. Love is anything but logical or controllable. His speech while our ride to the hospital had moved me. Affected me in ways I had never imagined. It left me wondering and fueled my longing for Hannah.


	2. Dressed to kill

What does a heartbroken Dexter Morgan look like?

Sold out garbage bags and plastic wrap? Lots of missing criminals? Shiny new, sharp butcher knives? And sun burned skin from too many boat trips?

Reminded me of Sirko’s bloodlust. 

But I didn't look any different than yesterday checking my face in the mirror. Not like Isaak who had 'tired and sad' written across his face. Love had motivated Isaak's need for revenge.

It was the old question. 

Feelings. Emotions. Love. 

If I could have feelings at all, I'd have them for Deb. That was what I had always thought. You're what makes me real – that was what I told Rita and that I never, ever wanted to miss pizza night – and it was true. My experiences with women, with mentors and companions changed my cover for my Dark Passenger into a real life. (Pinocchio would have been proud of me.) I didn't want to lose it. Not what was left of it: Deb. Harrison. Astor and Cody. Maybe even Isaak, my new friend.

I could hardly think about something else that day, only the hunt for the phantom distracted me... until Jamie called. 

“Hey... Dexter, there's a man in your kitchen. He's wearing one of your old t-shirts I think. He says you know him.“ Jamie sounded like she eyed Isaak suspiciously before she turned her back to him and added quieter: “He shocked the hell out of me, Dex!”

Shit, I totally forgot that Jamie and Harrison would be back today. I had left Isaak a note and pain killers as I went to work. 

“Uhm, yes, I forgot to tell you. That's Isaak.“ I tried to sound contrite. Lies always passed my lips easily. The only problem was next to me at Miami Metro: Debra who knew the whole truth. She stared at me and mouthed: Isaak like in Isaak Sirko? 

You can't have any secrets from her these days... 

“He arrived early this morning. They lost his suitcase at the airport. I've told him he could sleep in my bed for now.“

“You really should have told me,“ Jamie said seriously. She was angry. Damn. She was the goddamn best babysitter I ever had covering my late night sessions. And most important: Jamie didn't ask dangerous questions about “my crazy hours“.

“I'm sorry. I'll put it right.“

“Isaak's doing it already. He is cooking for us. If you're fast, we'll maybe leave you something.“ Luckily she didn't know he was a professional killer and ex-mobster. She believed me and Isaak's charm I'd say – she was pissed at me, not Isaak.

As soon as I cut my cell Debra yelled at me. “Isaak? The Ukrainian mobster is at your apartment? What the hell? You're buddies with the fucking Terminator? Is the world about to end? Have the machines taken over?“

“Calm down, Deb. Things have changed. The Koshka Brotherhood wants him dead and Isaak needed a place to stay.“

I could see her raising her eyebrows the way I had gotten used to since she had discover my secret. “Didn't he want you dead?“

“I told you, we have an agreement.“

“And didn't you want to kill him?“ Deb tilted her head ironically, her hands pressed to her hips. “Hannah's dead because of him. Sirko kidnapped her if you've forgotten already!“

“We're sort of... even.“ The answer came out of nowhere. Debra looked at me questioning but I wouldn't tell her about Viktor. She knew too much – the less she was involved the better.

~~~

Jamie, Harrison and Isaak were eating when I came home. Isaak was supposed to end up on my table. But not like this. Waering my baggy, worn t-shirt he really looked like he had made himself at home. 

The moment l sat my bag down, Isaak got up and went over to the kitchen. 

“I'm sorry but I needed something fresh.” He put a hand on the shirt. Too casual for Sirko with his fine trousers and shoes. It didn't fit. 

“You didn't use my good butcher knives, did you?,” I asked playfully. Isaak was in a surprisingly good mood.

“I prefer guns over knives.”

“To prepare a meal?”

The corners of his mouth lifted amused. “We've kept something warm for you.” Isaak opened the stove. It smelled awesome. “Sit down.”

“You really should have told about your friend, Dex.” Jamie managed to make me feel a little guilty. Bringing a killer for diner wasn't usually my cup of tea. Well, not since I started dating Hannah. Okay, Lumen had been my tenant. And I had some dinners with Miguel. “Don't withhold such gentleman who can cook this fabulous too in the future!,” she continued. “Even Harrison likes it and he's very picky sometimes.” Jamie smiled at Isaak who smiled back at her.

After Jamie had left and Harrison slept in his bed, Isaak and I sat down on the couch. Our knees almost touched. He found the last and only Scotch in my kitchen and allowed himself a drink despite the pain killers. I stayed with my beer from dinner.

Isaak talked about getting his hands dirty, about killing George. “You don't mind me staying another night? I'll book a hotel, a holiday flat or something. I just couldn't organize anything, I overslept the day.” He shook his head like he couldn't believe how tired he had been.

“No,” I said a bit too fast, “Stay. I'll spend the night next door with Harrison.” 

I enjoyed his company. His advice, the advice of a man almost dying for love and revenge left me wondering. After so long in the dark with my Dark Passenger I felt uncomfortable bringing him out in the open. Yet, I longed for it to happen. I only could ever tell the truth to the murderers on my table. My secret was safe with them. I didn't have to worry. I was in control. Part of me was addicted to the killings because of these honest moments.

Isaak told me that we were connected. There was no need to hide, to hold back. I put myself on the table if I was honest like this. Strange. A new feeling. Shocking.

“Why did you let me off the hook?” I asked. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Isaak looked directly at me, his tongue tasting the rest of alcohol on his lips.

“Why?”

“Honor between killers.” He smiled weakly.

“I killed him.” I didn't use his name on purpose.

Isaak lifted his shoulders, breathing in and let them fall, breathing out. “It wouldn't change anything. He still would be dead,” he finally answered. “Maybe I've found something I wasn't looking for. You know what, Dex?” He leaned forward and touched my knee with one hand. “I'd seriously like to go drinking with you. I want to get hammered, bond over revenge plans and listen to an opera until the last act with you.”

He stood up and went for another drink.

“We've made a good start – with the exception of opera.” 

Isaak turned around, his glass filled. “What about you?”

He still fit my code. Like every other killer I let walk. Like Hannah. How could I go from almost murdering her to having sex with her? Sooner or later most of them ended on my table. My Dark Passenger always led the way.

Isaak sat down again. “Do you want to kill me? Because of Hannah? Because the animal still wants me dead?” He was waiting for an answer and continued as nothing came. “I'm responsible for Hannah's death. Kill me now if you need to.” He opened his arms.

You should add you feel responsible for Viktor's death too, I thought. Killing Arthur Mitchell aka Trinity didn't bring back Rita as it would not bring back Viktor if Isaak killed me. Viktor was a killer; Rita was an innocent victim and still we felt the same. 

“You're here. I remember what you said at the gay bar.”

“Yes...”

“After you left someone hit on me,” I joked to change the topic. I wasn't used to letting my inner voice be my outer voice and speaking so bluntly.

“Better than having no one hit on you...,” Isaak responded pleased. “You don't have a gun, do you?”

~~~

Hannah's van was parked on the other side of the street, near the Foxhole. We made a stop for Isaak to get some of his stuff and guns out from Viktor's apartment.

Dressed to kill in his fresh pink shirt Isaak went through a side entrance of the Foxhole. (And that guy made fun of my army green Henley shirt and my gloves. Everyone has his own killer outfit.) I followed shortly after him. Working together with someone else made me think of Lumen. Isaak didn't need my help with George but I owned him that. We heard two voices arguing from George's office, one was definitely George and the other one was... Quinn.

I told Isaak to wait at the hall and play backup. The Ukrainian left the door ajar. The moment he walked in two guns were pointing at him.

“Gentlemen, that will get you nowhere,” Isaak said. His voice was prudent and calm. “Nadezhda, it's a pleasure to meet you again. Please take your friend with you. This is between me and George.”

Nadia was holding Quinn's arm. She tried to keep him from killing George. 

“Not without Nadia's fucking passport,” Quinn pointed out aggressively. 

Isaak gave Nadia the code to the safe. “She's a free woman. Don't fuck with her, twiggy. Now,” he waved with his gun, “I'd like to skinny ass from behind. You haven't seen me!” The plan was to fake evidence to make it look like a Colombian act of vengeance but Quinn's and Nadia's presence torpedoed it.

I never liked or cared about Quinn, not even when he was with my sister. He took the easy way out if possible. Just as he did now. Quinn backed out holding hands with Nadia. Isaak seemed to like to set people up. From Terminator to Armor. The door had barely closed behind them as George fired his first shot. Isaak saw it coming and showed his magnificence once again.

The bullet caught George's shoulder and threw him to the ground. Isaak kicked his gun away and looked down on him. I was sure he could have killed George without a weapon on board the ship. He had killed Tony Rush with a screwdriver rammed into his right eye. 

Isaak wanted to die, but I had changed his mind. 

Somehow.

There were screams from the strip club. Someone would surely call the police.

“George, you disappointed me. Twice.” Isaak gave a fale smile. “I had to send Viktor to do your job, you little cunt. You should have been dead instead of him!” That was the moment his voice turned from calm to vicious. He pressed his shoe down on George's hurt shoulder to torture him. “You can't even kill me. Did you think I would bleed to death? Ridiculous!” 

The second shot finally killed George. 

“Come on, let's go!” I whispered to Isaak. We left without being noticed by Batista and Quinn who entered George's office from the strip club.

Isaak collapsed into the passenger seat. The adrenaline was blown out. “I need espresso.”


End file.
